Sorrows for the Damned
by PassionandPromise
Summary: SLASH SAMXBEE..  Rated Mature for rape scenes...  Set after RotM, what happens directly after Sam gets on the ship? What if Mikeala never figured in his life? What if there was another who would listen to him...?
1. Chapter 1

_**XxX**_

_**Sorrows for the Damned**_

_**Chapter One**_

The sheets of the bed were shadowing his body, revealing what he had known for the past few hours: he wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon. He sighed, bunching up the pillows, and turned over to his side. In the lingering darkness of the pod he slept in, all he could manage to make out, all he could fumble through the lurking depths of black, was the fact that as soon as he closed his eyes, he would see his life flashing before him again. It scared him into opening those unfocused eyes again, his breathing laboured, the air around him hot and sticky. Which was no surprise.

He wasn't at home.

Yet.

He was at base, which housed over a hundred of the men from NEST, who had gathered after the events of the Egypt attack. Tired as they all were, none of them were able to make it home that night, and so they stuck it out here, Autobots bunking in beside humans among the separate pods and floors. Too sleepy to even ring home and tell their families they'd be back the next morning. All had gone quiet among Autobot and humans over three hours ago.

Sam sighed, deciding if he didn't wake anyone on his way out of the building, he'd go for a quick walk.

He pulled the covers off, and carefully, ever so silently, he tied his shoes, and padded over to the hall. His hand played with the door, before opening it and in the deafening silence around him, he sought solace in seeing the Autobots, all recharging, before him. No one uttered a sigh in sleep, no one even snored around them. Everyone was as quiet as he was breathing. It was a peaceful sight to take in: these guys really were brothers in arms. Where the NEST men had set up their sleeping rolls right beside the Autobots, the exit to the hangar itself was shielded by the SUV, ambulance, the red and blue truck, and yellow Camero. It was as if they were guarding the sleeping men, which caused Sam to smile.

It was when he took that first step out into the hangar, that Optimus flared his lights, nearly causing Sam to yelp. He couldn't even move without them noticing! He stared at the truck, knowing his steely gaze was going through to Optimus' spark. The truck flared it's lights again, very briefly, and Sam smirked. They couldn't move without causing a ruckus, but he as sure as hell could. Without causing a hitch in breath from any of the men he had to walk over, he made his way past the unmoving cars.

Next thing he knew, the yellow Camero revved, as if warning him. _You try getting out of here, and I will turn on my engine very nosily. And then we'll see who will be paying the price for waking up a few tired men, huh? _Bee was taunting. While Optimus would never do such a thing, that wouldn't stop Bumblebee. He'd wake up all of base, before letting his charge out of sight.

But what could he do? If Sam so much as moved back to that bunker, he'd scream. He couldn't sleep, and lying in that bed was driving him crazy. He needed fresh air. He needed to move in order to fall into some sort of fitless sleep. "I can't sleep in there, Bee. I need to go out for a while. _Stay here_, and don't even _think_ about following," Sam hissed, aware he was being overheard by the other Autobots. "You really want to wake up all of base?"

The engine was taunting him again, anyway. The lights were going on and off, and Sam nearly let out a wail of frustration, as he heard one of the men stifle a murmur in his sleep. He looked over his shoulder, to where Optimus was, and made out Lennox, his still form lying next to the Autobot leader, Epps was right next to Rachet, and then there was Ironhide, placed directly in front of the open exit, shielding everybody from the cool, slight breeze. Could he really risk waking them up?

Bee was revving, almost noiselessly, but it was growing, each rev becoming more and more audible. At last, Sam knew he couldn't do it, and threw his hands up in defeat, looking in Bumblebee's direction. "Stop!" he mumbled, "Jesus, Bee, stop! What the hell do you want me to do? I can't sleep, and it you make me go bac-"

The Camero's door opened, and Sam suppressed every other word he wanted to say. He closed his eyes, breathing out an angry sigh, which came out more like a groan, and walked over to his car. As he got inside, the door closed behind him, locking him in. He didn't say a word, putting his head back against the headrest. The radio switched on, and out through its speakers, he heard the almost inaudible words-

"_Everything I cherish is slowly dying or it's gone."_

"What do you mean? Everything is right here, Bee." He was confused, and having to use his brain at this time in the morning meant he was coming up with cows jumping over fences instead of understandable answers.

"_Tell the kids that I'm okay,_

_And if I'm forgotten,_

_You'll remember me 'fore today."_

The quality of the song itself caused him to feel sad, and in each word the singer sung, he felt a tie toward the radio, toward Bee himself, that not even Sam could deny. His eyes were burning from sleeplessness, and he put his cold hands on his forehead. It was like a lullaby, one he couldn't shake from his bones, and in the haziness of what he knew and what he couldn't comprehend, Sam started to feel the tears prick his eyes.

"Stop, Bee."

"_I don't wanna be a cornerstone-"_

"Bee, stop."

"_I don't wanna be aholdin' on-"_

"Please, stop singing it. Stop saying these things. Stop making me feel-"

"_Can you feel it?"_

The tears were free falling now, the tears that hadn't come when Optimus had died, the tears that hadn't fallen when he was scared of what would happen to the whole world, the tears that were begging to fall down his cheeks, just so that they wouldn't be bottled up for any longer. He wanted to escape it all right now, and in a vain attempt, he tried at opening the car door, knowing it would be locked. He leaned his head against the glass.

"Please stop this, Bee. It hurts too much-"

"_Once the show gets started it's bound to be a sight to see-"_

He closed his eyes, listening to the ebbing and flowing of music, the tilt in the chorus, and the growing crescendo of each ending to the verses. He tensed his shoulders, tightening his grip on reality, biting his lips. He banged his head against the head rest, letting it sit there.

"Hurts-" he whispered.

"_I won't ever be your cornerstone-"_

"Stop Bee, please, this is- this is killing me-" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, and giving into the whispers of letting it all go, just for once, letting everything be his fault, all his fault, everything, everyone, blame him, for all of this in the first place. He whimpered again, letting the teardrops fall onto the steering wheel, as he lay across it, arms folded in a pained embrace. "Please," he pleaded, one more time, and the song died away, replaced by something more like an opera piece. He stayed silent, his mind racing through the fact that _they_ could hear everything he said. After a second, he sighed.

"_What's. Wrong?"_

"Nothing. It's nothing," he mumbled in reply.

"_Do. You. Want. To. Talk. About. It?"_

"If I do, then… Then I'll hate myself for it."

"_Why? No. Need. To. Be. Sad."_

"It's my fault this started in the first place, so just please, let me go and slowly kill myself for a little while longer, Bee."

Bumblebee let out a muffled squeal in answer to that, his processors trying to understand what Sam really meant. Sam couldn't have really said what he meant, could he?

"No," Sam mumbled, "I'm not even brave to do that, Bee, I promise."

He meant suicide. Sam meant suicide.

Sam didn't see it, but all of the Autobots had flashed their lights, as if in alarm also. What could be burdening his heart to cause him to think so drastically? They all wondered.

"_I died in my dreams,_

_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"I don't know, Bee. I really don't know."

"_Then. Don't. Say. Such. Crazy. Things. Okay? Don't. Scare. Us… Don't. Scare. Me."_

Sam smiled. "Sure thing, Bee."

"_So. You. Can't. Sleep?" _

Sam sighed again, pushing himself off the steering wheel, looking at the dashboard vacantly. His mind was elsewhere, lost in those flashing images he kept getting as he closed his eyes each time he tried to sleep. Everyone was screaming his name, calling out for him to come back. But for some reason, even though he knew he was alive, he kept thinking he wasn't. He still felt as lifeless as he had lying down on the sands of Egypt. He kept feeling like he wasn't really here, like everything here was only just one hell of a long dream, like he was still…. dead. He listened to the song playing on the radio, knowing Bee was waiting patiently for a reply. He squeezed the leather seat below him, wondering if Bee could feel any of it.

The song's lyrics flew back to him, and he knew Bee was prodding at him to go on, and finish the question, _"Watch her run, Can you feel it? I won't ever be your cornerstone… I don't wanna be aholdin' on…"_

"I'm just… I'm fine… Okay?"

Abruptly, the seat fell back, and Sam yelped, his hands flying out in front of him. He felt a jolt of pain sweep up his side, and he winced. He was lying down, facing the ceiling of the car.

"_Suffice to say, We're leaving things Unsaid, We sing ourselves to sleep, Watching the daylight dawn instead…"_

"Bee?"

"_Lost and insecure, you found me, Lying on the floor, surrounded-"_

"I'm not lost or insecure, Bee-"

"Well then, if you're so sure, why aren't you sleeping like every other normal human being outside?" The sound of Bumblebee's British accent filled Sam's ears, and when he looked over his head, still lying down, he was greeted by the face of Bumblebee himself, whose face was close to his from where he sat in the back of the car. Sam nearly jumped out of his skin, the face of his friend in human skin causing him to scream in surprise. While Bumblebee chuckled, sitting cross-legged in the back, a grin on his open face, short blond hair bobbing in time to each small chuckle he uttered, Sam was having a hard time controlling his fast paced heartbeat. He gasped out each breath he tried to calm down, one hand placed over his chest, the other grappling at the steering wheel, knowing Bumblebee was trying not to laugh any harder.

"Eh, come on! You know we can project ourselves in human format if we wanted to! Although, thanks for brightening up my night… That was the most hilarious thing I've ever seen in my entire life!"

Sam looked over his shoulder, slowly. Yes, he was dreaming, yes, he would prefer the nightmares now, thank you very much… Come on, give him a nightmare… Come on…. Please, oh please, get him out of here….

"So, now are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to literally tie you to the seat in order for me to get anything out of your mouth?" Bumblebee continued, crossing his arms, and looking like a smug teenager. His blue eyes shone with a tiny fleck of sliver in them, and Sam noted how he could use them as torches in the dark if he wanted. He averted his gaze away from Bee, and continued to look out of the windshield. "I swear, Sam, I will do it. Don't think that I won't." Bumblebee climbed into the front seat, and he put his hands behind his head, watching Sam.

"I'm a coward, amn't I?"

The question was there, looming over them, and it was like for a second Bumblebee hadn't heard him as he processed the question. Then his eyes widened in confusion, and he jerked closer to him, "Huh? What the hell do you mean by that?" It dawned on Sam how easy it was to understand what Bee was saying now he used normal, everyday language. "Was I the only one here that actually saw you bring Optimus back to life?" There was an uneasy chuckle at the end of that sentence, and Sam said nothing. "Okay, well then, you know what's really wrong here? You haven't had any sleep whatsoever in the past twelve hours or so, and you are just slightly crazy-"

"I swear, Bee, if I was, then I'd be in Dreamland right now." The hopelessness in Sam's voice haunted Bee, and he sat up, leaning forward. Sam shoved his head down on the steering wheel, both of his arms going around it in order to protect himself from everything, and everyone, around him. Couldn't Bumblebee tell how much it hurt? "You really don't get it, do you?"

"No, so please, enlighten me."

Sam could hear Bumblebee breathing, which made him wonder at how easy it was for him to become human, if he ever wanted to try. Instead of blurting out his feelings like the troubled teenager he was, he said- "Could you ever walk outside of the Camero with that on you?" The way he changed the subject was so completely obvious, that Bee cocked one of his eyebrows up.

"Nope, I can't," Bee looked out of windshield, settling his eyes on Optimus sitting in front of them, "Rachet's working on it, to let us interact with humans, so we can walk freely among them. Without the height difference," he added, from sarcasm's sake. "Lennox thinks it'd be a great idea."

"Yeah, it would be. Once it's ready."

"Which should be soon, considering we are way faster than you when it comes to technology," Bee cackled, and Sam smirked. "So, back to what we were discussing… Look, tell me. You can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Sure, I know that, but this is something I want to keep to myself, okay?"

Bumblebee rolled his eyes. "You do realise that makes you sound like a tragic soldier we usually see in those movies your mother makes you watch?" Sam sniggered, unable to control it.

"Yeah, I know. But you see, the difference is that this is real. All of this, compared to those movies… _We are real_, and this-," he pointed to his chest, before closing his eyes, "-_is real_." Bumblebee waited in the dark for him to continue, before putting a hand on Sam's tense shoulder, sensing his distress. His eyebrows knotted in misperception, as he watched how Sam had shifted under his touch. He didn't say anything, until Sam suddenly, frantically, murmured, "I thought I'd never see anyone again, and that everything we'd worked so hard for, was all going to disappear into those grains of sand. I thought that what I was doing, while I was running, for that brief second, before being killed, was what I was _meant _to do. And then, to hear the explosions, before being pushed off the ground, before feeling my _heart stop_, made me want to _scream_ in frustration. _Nothing_. That was all I could feel. And then I heard everyone calling my name, and I just thought, for that one second, that it didn't matter how loudly they shouted for me. I wasn't going to make it back."

The tears were falling again, and Sam closed his eyes, trying, again, to ignore everything, to make it all go black, where he originally wanted white. He still lay on the steering wheel, and he breathed out. "All of this was my fault in the first place. Everything. So please, _keep blaming me_. I don't really mind. Really."

"Well, that's a lot of crap, obviously," Bumblebee kept his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"You may think it, but I don't."

"Hmm, well then, lie back and close your eyes, and keep blaming yourself then. But just to let you know, you saved the lot of us, you helped bring our leader back, and you saved the world in the process, so just think about how much you are not a coward, and how much you are a hero. See if that makes you sleepy."

"No, Bee, I can't."

That was it. Bumblebee had had enough. With the one hand still placed on Sam's shoulder, he rushed the other one around his waist, and forcefully pushed him down onto the seat behind him. Sam, unsuspecting, gasped in pain, the scars from the battle still tender after what had happened. He stiffened under Bumblebee's arms, and Bumblebee flinched in return.

"Oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

Sam was breathing fast, and even Bumblebee could feel the trembling heart beat beneath him. The side facing Bee was the side Sam was most hurt, and he had forgotten. Sam's eyes were squeezed tightly together, and Bumblebee murmured out more apologies-

"Primus, Sam, why didn't you say you were still in pain? Rachet would've _given you_ something stronger to nullify it! Sam-"

"It's my own fault, not yours-" Sam wheezed, slowly feeling the agony ebb away, and he started to relax, his eyes opening, tired, still filled with pain.

"So? Rachet would've sewn you up _better_ than the humans could have! Primus… I'm sorry-"

"Stop saying sorry, Bee," Sam breathed, feeling the last of the tension ease out through his limbs. Bumblebee couldn't let it be though, and he put an icy cold hand on Sam's side, where it was burning. Sam supressed a sigh.

"You didn't take anything to ease it, did you?"

"I did, a while ago."

"How long ago? You should know how to take care of yourself, Sam."

"They didn't give me anything more than a few painkillers, Bee. I have to wait till morning for the next batch." At that, Sam tried to turn over onto his good side, but Bumblebee stopped him.

"No, stay on you back. The pain will ease better if you lie flat."

"Hm," Sam replied, feeling how cold Bee's hand was. "Do you always feel this cold?" Bumblebee looked at him.

"Yes. Unfortunately, Rachet hasn't worked out the simple problem of body heat yet." Sam muffled a laugh.

Bumblebee moved his hand away, carefully, only to feel Sam's warm one gripping him, and pulling it back to its original spot over his shirt. "Sorry, it just feels better when there's something cold on it."

In the darkness, Bumblebee could make out an almost inaudible shiver coming from Sam's body, and he mimicked exactly what his mind had told him, "You have a slight fever, Sam."

"S'okay," Sam replied.

"It's not okay! Stop-Stop saying it's okay! When you keep saying these things, I keep worrying more and more, you know!" The anxiety in Bumblebee's voice caused Sam to look at his face, biting his lip. It had become the norm now, this biting. He couldn't keep himself from doing it. It was annoying, and he needed to stop it.

"Sorry, Bumblebee." He peered in at his face, under the ruffles of blond hair, and past the blue eyes, right down into Bee's very spark, and Bumblebee stared right back. "I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah, well, you'd better stop it, because every time you say that it doesn't matter, or that you are fine, or there is no need for me to worry, every time you turn around and start to bully yourself over the slightest or things, like how stupid you are, or what a coward you are, or how you can never do the job bloody right, then you make me feel like I'm letting you down. I try harder, and harder, to make you feel better, but you can never seem to understand: you are _freaking human_, Sam, and if things work out the way they do, then that's just the way it happens, and there is nothing that can undo them. I'm your guardian, Sam, I am your friend, Sam, I am your-_your best friend_: I care! I care about you, and I want you to stop hating yourself for it," he finished, huffing slightly. If he could cry, he would. If he could _bleed_, he would, for Sam. Always for Sam. _Always_.

Sam watched him, silent, feeling the cold hand of his partner seeping through the fabric of his shirt and right onto the wound. There rest of him was warm, and yet this small part of his waist was cold, freezing cold. Maybe he should've asked Bumblebee to move his hand to over his heart, because that's where it was needed most.

He gulped, watching Bee sigh, and move slightly. "You need to sleep," he whispered quietly, turning his face away, obviously torn.

It was amazing what Rachet had done. Every movement of Bumblebee's mimicked exactly what a human could do, every single thing he saw before him was real, very real, and yet it wasn't. Every single crease in Bumblebee's denim jacket could be seen in the dark, and in even his touch, Sam could feel. He felt every single slight touch Bee had given him, every rough gesture he felt there a few minutes ago. Bumblebee was human, before him, right now. Bumblebee was here, and-

Before Bumblebee had turned his head to the slight movement, there was a gentle pull, and, without any hesitation, Bumblebee was lying beside him, the driver's seat cramped with both bodies lying across it. There was a gentle hush, and Sam leaned in toward him, listening to Bee's quiet breathing, closing his eyes. The hand had left his side, and Sam winced, feeling the heat rise up again, the jab causing him to jerk slightly. But by that time, Bumblebee had placed both arms around Sam, keeping one comfortably around his waist to stop the agony, the other had gone around his shoulders, and had lifted him off the seat altogether. Sam grabbed fistfuls of Bumblebee's jacket, wondering what on earth he was doing. He'd settled on top of Bee, and both of his arms were wrapped around him, the cold body of the holo snaking through to his skin, causing him to shiver. Against his will, he felt his eyes start to close.

"Sleep, okay? You'll feel better in the morning," Bumblebee whispered into his ear, and Sam started to calm down, his achy muscles feeling, for the first time in a while, relaxed. He didn't realise how warm he was in comparision to the guy below him, and he started to breathe faster, his heartbeat hitching up a few notches. In reply, Bumblebee only clutched him tighter, and Sam sighed. "Sleep."

"I-"

"Sam, just give in. Let yourself fall asleep. Close your eyes, and let yourself give into tiredness," Bumblebee soothed, caressing Sam's arm, which lay on Bumblebee's arm. "There won't be any nightmares, I promise."

Sam nestled into the crook of Bumblebee's neck, and slowly, softly, quietly, he fell into the world of dreams, knowing, trusting, hoping that by the time he woke up, there would have been no bad dreams to report, and nothing to recall from last night, nearly driving him onto the edge of despair.

* * *

><p>AN:

Hello! A lot of you guys wanted me to come up with a SamXBee fic, so I decided to go along with it, although, since this is my first time trying, please go easy on me...

This is meant to be multi-chaptered, but tell me if you want me to continue, 'cause I don't know if anyone wants to try reading something like this... I've never really considered Sam and Bee as a gay coupling- sooo, whatever goes with your thoughts- I suppose... As I say on my page, there are non-consent sex scenes, and other horrible things I don't wanna explain...

Poor Sam is all I'm gonna say...

This is definitely the kind of fic that makes you wanna cry, or scream... You'll either like it, or you'll wish it was never, ever written, sooo...

Thanks for reading, and tell me what you think!

xoxoxox

Thanks for reading


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**_

Mature rating means no kids!

Mature also stands for **explicit** use of language, which may offend some, so please stay clear of this if you are sensitive to rape scenes or bad language... Thank you!

xoxox

_**-xox-**_

_**Chapter Two**_

_xXx_

It was the calm before the storm. The silence was as pure as the gentlest touch, undisturbed and untouched. It was safe to say no-one was awake, it was safe to say everyone was lost in the bliss of sweet sleep. Until the alarms had started to ring, until everything crashed and there were shouts, there was nothing but…. soft whispers and murmurs.

Until the alarms rang.

Until everything became a chain of chaos.

It started with Optimus turning on his headlights, his interest peaking when he had a Decepticon reading on his radar, followed by the others, who had by now, heard it.

The sound of a helicopter.

And then the alarms sounded.

And then the world started to crash around them.

Muffled shouts, questions were raised, ultimately toned down by hands lifting out guns, rushing through crowds to catch something, anything, to raise against the intruder. Boots crunched in the gravel below them, and jackets were pulled on, the NEST men gathering into action as fast as they could, borrowing whatever time they had been given. Eyes flashed toward servers, and some called out for tables. There was a crashing sound, followed by the sounds of the Autobots transforming among the men. Lennox, among them called out for Epps, who ran toward him, sporting the kind of gun you'd only label as 'massive- keep away from adults'.

Sam nearly jumped out of the Camero, hearing the shouts and calls for arms. He held his side, looking at Lennox, while Bumblebee transformed.

"What's going on?" he cried over the sound of the alarms.

"Don't know, kid! Just woke up!" Lennox called back, filling one of his rifles with ammunition. Epps stood beside him, barking out orders, while Optimus towered above them, also barking out orders to the Autobots.

"You tell me one thing?" Epps hollered, eyes squinting in the chaos around them, "Tell me how _**the fuck**_ these things do not give up and bloody die!"

"Starscream, Optimus! It's Starscream!" Ironhide barked back over the deafening drone of the alarms, and Sam covered his ears as soon as he heard a screeching sound overhead. He cried again, as he heard the cackle of Starscream above him, the hissing of hinges coming undone, and the sounds of metal squeaking under the stress of being pulled by something much, much larger than it. Sam ducked under a nearby table, sitting in beside Epps, who started to aim, before the steel roof had started to come down around them. Sam shouted out in sheer terror, seeing it coming down on top of them, when Rachet grabbed it in one hand, and easily threw it back in Starscream's direction.

And then came the barrel-load of gunshots and bombs.

Epps was screeching out as many orders as his booming voice would carry, and Sam looked around him, his eyes fishing for anything he could use, anything to become useful. His eyes fell on a gun too big to be wielded with just one hand, a few feet away from him, and he jumped into a sprint, running faster and faster, hand stretching out further and further-

He reached out and was just about to grab grab grab—!

Something from behind made him topple over, the full weight of a hand coming down and seizing him from out of nowhere. Usually Bee was the one to protect him whenever something was taking aim at him from anywhere on a battlefield, and no matter what the circumstances, Bee was usually gentle, but whoever this was, they were rough and careless, pulling him up off the ground and up into the skies—

Oh shit-

_Oh shit_-

He looked down as Starscream pummelled higher and higher into the night sky, the stars the only thing illuminating them against the backdrop of darkness. He howled as he noticed they were still shooting at them from below, and reached up to cover his face from the barrel-load of shots. He could hear Optimus as he called out his name, he could hear Bumblebee whine in the swell of black around him, but he didn't have the courage to open his eyes to see them. Ironhide was shooting: he could tell from the sounds of blasting cannons below, but Starscream had swerved and dodged every shot aimed at them.

It was when Starscream had swerved a little too sharply that the pain in Sam's side shot up too fast for him to yell. Hastily, he grabbed his side, feeling something wet come away in his fingers. He felt the darkness swirl around him, enclosing him tightly in its sticky embrace, and then around the sounds of gunshots and screams, he literally felt himself fall… fall… fall… into the darkness.

xXx

As he came to, he realised how much he wished he wanted to sleep, and forget whatever had previously happened. Something was pinning him to the ground, as hard and uncomfortable as it was, and even when he opened his eyes, the brush of blinding red lights from overhead caused him to groan. The agony in his side flared up again, and he gasped, trying to pull his legs up in stop the pain, but he couldn't, because they were pinned down also. By strong grips, as firm as iron and as rigid as steel. His heart beat was pumping blood to his face, and he breathed faster with each passing second.

"Don't even think you can escape, fleshling. Don't even think that anyone would be coming for you. Don't even think that you are safe." The chant from Megatron's lips brought Sam to the grim reality he was in. Sam stopped moving, his side protesting, screaming at him to _please oh please oh please_, just let him curl into a ball. "Now that we've settled all of that, let's face the truth here. What are you doing still walking this earth?"

Sam couldn't utter a word in reply. His arms were shaking from being held so uncomfortably, and when Megatron's face loomed ever closer to his, he curved away from those red eyes, boring into his head. "Hmm, well, boy, if you do not answer my questions, I suppose I will have to-"

Something clicked in Megatron's wrist, on Sam's right hand side, the side where he was injured badly, and out of the black wrist came a series of smaller tentacle-like fingers. Sam twitched when they neared his skin, and he whimpered. It wasn't something he was proud of, sounding like a complete baby, but he wasn't going to say he wanted to act bravely either. It was hard to face a Decepticon when you were miniscule compared to them, and you just so happened to be unable to move in the first place. The sound of his voice caused Megatron to laugh, the evil in him becoming almost too much to bear for Sam, who looked away from those hands, twitching to touch human skin.

Sam was going to have a heart attack. Yup-

That was how he was going to die.

He closed his eyes, his mouth squeezing into a narrow line once he knew these things were not going to be nice to him. Once they touched flesh, there was a spark, and Sam yelped, electricity running through his skin, all the way into his wounds. He screamed in absolute terror and pain then, his voice strained, before he felt his whole body go slack, his arms numb, everything numb, except for his side. His heart beat wildly then, his breathing too fast for him to keep up, wheezing out of his already burnt lungs, causing him to arch his back in order to gain more oxygen, before he felt another hand force him down.

"Breathing hurt a little, Samuel?" Megatron crooned. "Your wounds are re-opening also. That must hurt like hell."

Sam wheezed again in reply, his arms going still. "Oh no, we can't have you going all sleepy on me, now can we? After all, you did come back from the dead once, I'm sure you could come back again, if you wanted to. And we can't have that, _**can we**_?"

Those fingers glided along his skin, tearing his shirt in the process, and he knew that Megatron was calculating injuries: how much would it hurt if I done this, that, or the other…? Under his shirt, the bandages had mostly covered his stomach, and there were a few bruises, a few burns and some scratches, but the worst damage had been done to his waistline, where there had been an openly, gaping wound, which led him to get a few stitches. It seemed he didn't need them now: there was blood gushing from the bandages now.

It was when he heard Megatron stifle a smile, when those fingers continued past his stomach, that Sam's eyes widened in horror. Oh God, _no… __**No**__!_ Sam moved uncontrollably, as one of those fingers snaked its way up his trouser line. _Holy shit, oh shit, oh fuck, __**fuck, fuck, fuck!**_ Sam tried to pull his arms off from one of the hands still gripping him tighter and tighter. He squealed when he felt the cool metal touch his thigh.

"Are you going to tell me how you survived, or will I have to do some other, very _unpleasant things_, Sam?"

"P-Primes brought me back!" Sam stuttered in return, his heart racing against the frantic beat in his mind. _Oh shit oh shit oh shit_- He didn't even want to think past the next half second, no no no no… "The-The Primes brought me back so I could resurrect Optimus!"

"Hm, that seems very, very-aggravating. And I don't like aggravating things, Samuel."

He continued to laugh away as Sam screamed out into the night, the very unpleasant things Megatron had in mind becoming very, very real.

xXx

_**Five Days Later:**_

There was a sound, and it caused him to open his eyes. There was the sun, blinding him, and then he felt the cool, yet salty water, stinging the cuts on his legs. His arms lay outstretched, palms facing the sky, head twisted to the side, facing one side of the… beach? His heart thudded softly in his chest, and he felt sleepy, thinking how wonderful this dream was-

"_Are you going to tell me how you survived, or will I have to do some other, very unpleasant things, Sam?"_

He whimpered, recalling how he got here, why he felt these pains, sharp and shooting up his legs, all the way to his throbbing head. He closed his eyes, and tried not to think of- His spine shivered at the memory, which caused him to turn onto his side, one arm flinging out over the other. He watched his fingers tremble in the sand, soft and grainy under his touch, compared to the feel of cutting metal sinking into his skin.

His gaze flickered ever so quietly onto the water, shining in the sunlight, white and deep blue penetrating his already cloudy vision. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to scrub his skin clean after what had happened-

"_Oh my, Sam… It appears you are a very dirty-"_

His hands bunched up in the sand, hardening the feel of the unforgiving grains as they cut their way into his skin, burrowing deep into those cuts and bruises. At least he could feel this without any other lingering agony. He took in the sight of his bloody wrists, from being tied down for so long, and how mangled his fingers seemed under the appearance of the bright lights above him.

He breathed out after a while.

No one was going to hurt him anymore…

"_You must be enjoying this-"_

No.

No.

No.

_No!_

His legs buckled up closer to his stomach, and he jerked, feeling his legs scream in protest. They didn't want to move. They wanted to stay still forever. He nearly gasped in pain, but all he could hear was a keening sound, something that only an animal could utter. A dying animal. He shifted his hands so he could push himself up, but clumsily, he toppled over in so much _agony _the second his fingers dug into the sand.

_Everywhere _hurt so _freaking _much!

He started to worry. What if he could never move from this position ever again? He shook at the thought of never-

There was that sound again.

The sound of thumping feet. No, not feet, he corrected himself. Not feet.

_Not feet._

Something much _much_ bigger.

There was the sound of engines, revving in the faraway distance. Behind him.

Oh God, he pleaded, hoping that-

No.

No.

Please God, no.

No.

No.

Oh shit, no.

No.

He clenched his fist into the sand, picking up the stray grains in his lingering touch.

No. He didn't want them to see him. No, He didn't want to have to-

"_He appears to want more, Megatron-"_

Nonononononononononono!

Don't let them so that to him again, please oh please oh please oh please-

"Primus! I've found him! He's over here! The bloody bastards were right!"

He didn't know who was saying what, he didn't know who it was, and he couldn't care less. He wanted to disappear into nothingness. He didn't want to exist at that present second. He wanted to become nothing, nothing, nothing-

He whimpered, shivering, thinking of what they would do to him again, how they would laugh at his agony, at each scar they created, at every single scream he'd utter-

They were standing over him, and Sam felt himself shrink into a tiny ball, his heartbeat pounding away, the blood rising to his cheeks, each breath becoming harder and harder to feel in his lungs-

"Primus, what did they do to him?"

Sam closed his eyes, furiously trying to not cry, no crying, no more tears-

"Sam? Can you hear us?"

Sam put his hands over his ears in reply.

"Primus! Wait until I get my hands on that Megatron's little neck! I will make sure he gets the pounding of his life, and that way the bloody bastard will never be able to come back to fricking life again, just you wait!"

"_I fell through the cracks at the end of our street, Let's go to the beach, Get the sand through our feet," _a radio crooned in the background, the only muffled voice he was able to see through at this stage, the only sound he could hear, and feel.

Bumblebee.

"_Is it over yet? Let me in", _the radio sang, and slowly, Sam looked up, his hands lying down over his head. _"You take the breath right out of me. You left a hole where my heart should be. You got to fight just to make it through." _Sam looked up, ignoring his legs as they protested. _"Full of fear, Ever clear. I'll be here, Fighting forever….It only hurts just once. They're only broken bones."_

Sam saw Bumblebee's yellow plating before he saw his face, and when he did, he uttered that one word that both brought him into reality and flattened him against the pit of absolute pain. He said, "Bee?" before he felt the pain settle in, and when he started to feel one of the Autobots pick him up on his side, the side covered in angry red wounds, he yelled out in torment. Abruptly, the hand left his side, and his face buried itself into the sand, tears, salty as they were, mixing with the yellow grit.

"It's even worse than it looks, Optimus," Rachet, speechless at first, now mumbling. "We should sedate him. That way he won't feel anything."

Already he could feel another hand, as gentle as it possibly could, prod him in the side, trying to lift him off the ground. He stiffened against its touch, unknowing as to who it was. The hand stilled, before picking him up in one easy go. Sam bit his lip, feeling the rising discomfort between his legs as he was jostled onto his front. His hands clenched, and when he tried to pry his eyes open, he saw Rachet over him, and he shrank away, suddenly recalling how close Megatron was to his face as he cried, begged for them to stop-

"Sam, I won't harm you. None of us will harm you. We promise," Rachet's tone was soft, toned down, as the other Autobots backed away from his line of vision. Sam felt his back dig further and further into the metal hand holding him, and Rachet, noticing this, said in reply, "Sam, your heart-rate is peaking. Please relax."

"_Ooooh, Megatron, should we try making his heart pound faster-?"_

Sam whimpered, and covered his head with his hands, turning over onto his side. Rachet was already performing a scan, and he felt his skin tingle as it was being done, Rachet calculating injuries, bruises, torn skin-

"Primus," was all he mumbled, "Ironhide had better leave some of that bastard to me to rip apart."

So Rachet knew.

Great.

"Sam, please, do not feel scared. We will not harm you. We will _never_ harm you," Rachet soothed, and, without warning, Sam felt a twitch in his side. "Not like this. Never." He looked down to see a needle, just poking out from under his skin, and he yelped in surprise, pulling away from it. But already it was too late. He was dripping into a deep sleep, one he wouldn't be waking up from in a while.

"W-Why?" he slumped forward, his head hitting the metal hand, his hands feeling limp as he closed his eyes. The limb body in Rachet's hand could hear Bumblebee whining far off, wanting to be closer to his charge, and Sam couldn't help but feel the same way. Did Rachet already tell them through their com links? Sam shivered at the thought, and fervently hoped he wouldn't-_hadn't_.

As his fingers stopped moving above his head, he drifted off, basking in the warmth of someone's embrace: someone with blond hair and blue eyes.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**

Yay, the next chapter is up! OMG, thank you all soooo much for liking this and reviewing it too! I was amazed to hear you wanted more and so this chapter got finished real quick! (which is bad for my studies but kinda good for my english, so I don't really care!)

I hope y'all like it, and please keep updating me with your thoughts! Really, they keep me up in the clouds!

xoxoxox


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

_xXx_

He ruffled through the darkness, comfortably touching the warmth around him, finally letting himself calm down. There was no light, and for some reason, he was happy for it. Maybe that was because he wouldn't have to see what they'd done to him. Maybe it was because, more than anything, he felt ashamed. He listened to the nothingness, and almost smiled. It was… nice, not to have to feel too much. It was nice, not to have to think of-

_They crawled up his skin, their very touch causing him to murmur out something incoherent. They'd already done their brutal job, and he was left, bloody and torn on the ground, his hands still pinned above his head, his legs still stuck in their original position. Every breath he whispered aloud, every time he opened his mouth, he could only whimper. It hurt so much. Everything hurt so much._

_He tried to arch his back, to relive the pain in his lower body, but all he got in return was the tightening of claws on his wrists, which were already red with his blood. Was Megatron planning on making him bleed to death? He coughed, trying to hold back his breath again. Above him, Megatron cackled, enjoying his agony, basking in his apparent glory._

"_Oh my, Sam… It appears you are a very dirty little fleshling. You seemed to enjoy that, didn't you? Maybe a little more? Would you like that?" His taunts mixed darkly with the small fingers, as they poked their way through his bloody jeans. He found it miraculous that they weren't ripped as badly as his skin underneath. He tried to buckle away, his strength gone, his fervour gone with the wind. He whimpered, and whispered out pleas._

"_Please, no more-"_

"_Why, what was that Sam? More?"_

_One of those things scratched his skin, right on his thigh and he flinched. They were creeping closer, ever closer, cold and wet with his blood. He whimpered again, knowing the torture was coming again. The onslaught was going to feel worse this time. His legs tried to pry away from their merciless holders, but his lack of strength caused him to feel dizzy. He felt the heat crawl up his cheeks with all his energy, and he decided to give up._

_They were on him, they were pulling, poking, shoving and the agony was mounting as they tore through flesh. He screamed when it started to become too much, when he felt his skin ripping under those claws, and he begged louder, but what he said, he couldn't hear. He was breathing fast, but not from bliss. He wanted to get away from here, he wanted to be pulled out of this hellhole. He yelled and howled when Megatron was grunting, apparently not becoming tired. Each small carress for the bigger 'Con was too much for Sam to bear- This wasn't goddamn rape: this was something a million times worse. This was torture, this was what happened to spies in freaking prisons when they wanted information-_

"_You must be enjoying this-"_

"_! STOP PLEASE! STOP!" Sam screeched at the top of his grainy voice, trying to pull his arms off the vice grips, which were biting into his skin again, and again, and again-_

_He screamed as another push from one of the fingers made their way into him, and then he felt nothing. The pushing and the shoving and the loud grunts had disappeared, and all he could hear was his wheezy breathing, his cries and moans, his pleads for mercy, please, mercy-_

"_He appears to want more, Megatron-"_

"_Hm, I think I shall leave it for now. The boy will surely overload if I indulge myself too much. Besides, we already have done what we needed to do. Sam's punishment has been given… however, I would like to do more with the boy, just before we give him back to them-"_

Sam sat bolt upright, his trembling hands fishing for ways out of the tight material around his body. At first he was disorientated, and he couldn't tell where he was, but as he looked around, he noticed he was in the medic bay area of the base. Was this another dream?

"Primus, you scared the spark out of me!"

Sam's heart jumped out of his ribcage, and he nearly bolted out of the bed, except as he fished his way out of the sheets, he saw an almost see-through hand on his shoulder, and he turned, yelping, until he saw-

What?

Bumblebee?

What in God's name was happening here?

"Hey, you're finally awake! I hoped you would wake up soon… 'cause I was really worried, you know," the British accent rang in Sam's ears, and he sighed in relief, before settling back onto the bed covers. The blond hair shone in the light, and from where Sam was sitting, he could make out tiny glints of black. Ironic, Sam thought, considering Bee was a yellow and black Camero. Those blue eyes bore into Sam's, and in them, Sam saw the truth: Bumblebee didn't know what had happened.

He felt grateful to Rachet for not saying anything, although he couldn't be too sure when it came to Optimus. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if Optimus _did_ know.

Bumblebee smiled, and touched Sam's shoulder. It took Sam a lot not to flinch from that touch. Even though he knew this wasn't a dream, and Bee would not turn into Megatron any second, even though he knew this was his best friend, he still couldn't quite hang on the idea of touching. Instead, Sam gulped, tried and a smile, and looked away, hoping he wasn't hurting Bee's feelings. However, not even Bee could mistake the rising tightness building in Sam's arm, and he frowned.

"Hey, are you okay? Does it hurt?" The worry in Bee's voice made Sam wince and he shook his head, a little too tightly.

"Nope, nothing hurts… Hey, what does Rachet have me on, anyway? I was, well, in a bit of pain earlier, and now I can't, well-," Sam smiled nervously, trying not to sound crazy, "-I can't feel anything, at all." He laughed shakily, and Bumblebee detected the pitch in his voice, the flow of his pulse, intensifying. Bumblebee moved his touch down Sam's arm, and Sam nearly hollered at the feeling of creepiness it gave him, as it made it's way to his hand, cold in his warm one.

"You sure? You are a little uptight. Bad dream? You were shouting in your sleep, you know," the serious tone in Bee's voice caused him to look at the mech again. Sam couldn't deny it: Bee could smell a fish. But he shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

"I'm fine, Bee. Really."

Bee tisked, looking away frustratedly, and Sam recalled that conversation when they were in the Camero, and he winced inwardly.

"Um, what I mean to say is.. Well, I'm not fine, of course I'm not fine-" he felt the tears prick behind his eyelids as he told the white lie,"-But I'm… I'm better than what I was before. Anything is better than not being with Megatron, right?"

Did he give too much away? Sam could almost feel the tautness in the air building up around them, and he wanted to forget everything, and throw his arms around his mate, tell him what was exactly wrong, and how he wanted to just be held, even if just for a second, before he launched out into the world again. But then, he shook his head, knowing Bee wouldn't feel the same way. Bee couldn't. No. Besides, he didn't want to ruin their friendship.

Bumblebee looked into his eyes again, and faintly smiled. "Thanks for telling me. Now I won't have to go and, what did you say, _go kill myself slowly_, or something?" The smile Bee gave him caused Sam to melt slightly. It was full of light, hope, something innocent-

And he was dirty-

Dirty-

Dirty-

_Dirty-_

Sam stopped then, and momentarily wondered why on earth he hadn't asked yet. "Hey Bee? How, um, are you-"

Bee smiled cheekily. "Who said I was really here?" He pointed behind him to the yellow Camero, headlights turned on and facing them. "Headlights are powering the projection."

"So you aren't really here? You are just a projection?"

"Uh huh. Like I said, we can't come outside our skeletons, geddit?"

"You never said anything about skeletons, but I understand," Sam laughed, feeling relaxed and calm. "You still feel real, though. I could feel how cold you were." Bumblebee looked at him, seriously, before turning his head away.

"Maybe that's 'cause you wanted to feel it, Sam." Sam couldn't believe his eyes: Bumblebee was… blushing! Sam smiled in return, before fidgeting with his hands, unsure of what to do or say next. He didn't want to make Bee uncomfortable over such a silly thing. When all was said and done, he heard another set of footfalls coming toward them, and Sam flinched, squeezing the white sheets painfully.

Those footfalls sounded an awful lot like-

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think. Breathe, just breathe, just breathe-

"Sam? Sam, can you hear me? What's wrong? It's only Rachet," Bumblebee murmured, eyes widening, watching his friend shaking. "Sam?"

Sam put his face into his hands, his pulse pounding in his neck. Don't think, don't think, as long as you don't think, you'll be fine-

"How is the boy, Bumblebee?" Rachet asked, coming closer.

"Um, Rach? Something is up, and I don't know what- Sam's awake," Bumblebee squeaked, trying to calm down his friend by placing both hands on his charge's, and prying them away from his face. Under them, Bumblebee was very sad to see, were tears. Already, Sam was hastily trying to dry them up, but to no avail. There were more streaming down his face, making small droplets on the white, pristine sheets. Rachet came closer, and peered down at Sam.

"There is no need for tears, Samuel. No-one, and I mean _no-one_, is going to harm you like that again. I swear it," Rachet was trying to keep his voice as level as possible, but not even he could keep the underlying sternness away from the anger he felt. He really was going to find that bastard and rip him to shreds. Who would do that to a _child_, and a human one at that?

"Yeah, we'll make sure you stay safe forever. We promise, we solemnly swear it!" Bumblebee joining in, before wrapping his arms around Sam's shoulders, not touching his hands, only pressing him slightly into the projection. If only Sam was in his car, the he'd be able to do it properly, but he wouldn't be allowed to move Sam for another while. But it was the thought that counted most, and not even Sam could keep from wanting to return the hug, the small gesture. He felt his heart melting, and tried his best at squeezing back at the air, nearly laughing at the absurdity of it. He was only hugging air.

"Thanks, Bee, Rachet," he mumbled quietly, letting the last of the tears fall.

Next thing, Rachet was taking out another needle, and aiming it towards Sam's IV drip. All of a sudden, Sam arms went up, and he started begging no no no! Rachet looked down confusedly.

"Can I just fall asleep myself? Please?"

"You can't honestly tell me you are afraid of needles, Samuel," the Autobot replied sarcastically. Sam shook his head.

"No, I just want to fall asleep by myself, thanks."

He didn't want to be the one to tell Rachet those things were the reasons for the nightmares, which were steadily spiralling out of control whenever he drifted through that darkness. Those nightmares, he knew, wouldn't leave him for the rest of his life, but Sam knew he could get used to them if he forced himself to sleep naturally, without the use of something that seemed to promote everything dark in his sleep. He laughed at the weird logic he was using, but for some reason, or another, he knew it was true.

"Samuel, you need to rest, then. You've only been out for the past two days," Rachet tutted, and Sam blanched.

"_Only_? That's a _long_ time for us humans, in case you haven't noticed, Rachet!" he sighed, before settling back into the sheets, head resting against the pillow. The radio in the Camero came on then, and Rachet gave Bee the most severe look Sam had ever seen. It was something techno, something Sam wasn't usually one to go for, but when he heard the drumroll play, he could instantly see why Bee would've picked it.

"_Searching the rain I see only shadows, You've got to show me your face—Remnants of you are burning inside me," _the radio sang, and Sam chuckled.

"So we've become completely smitten with the t.A.T.u. girls, have we?" he asked.

"_When everything feels like the movies, yeah, you'll bleed just to know you're alive—I just want you to know who I am," _the radio crooned back.

"Great. Now we are going for Goo Goo, are we?"

xXx

His hands clenched the soundless air, smooth silk passing through fingers, his sighs the only undertones he could hear, his eyes searching through the dense shadows. He knew he had no control over the dreams: they weren't the kind you could throw away with a simple gesture of the hand, yet if they came, he knew there was nothing he could do about it. He could already feel them pulling him down, the tendrils of nightmares dragging his reluctant body down, down, down to the ground below, where he knew he would be held, fastened there, where his shrill screams would no longer be heard by the people he knew could save him.

He waited, he wondered, he hoped they wouldn't come.

However it became obvious, that not even he could stop the onslaught this time.

It began again, each fluent movement he tried to feel becoming more and more restrained, the grips he was once under tying him down again, the steel in them scarring his wrists, making him scream.

Dirty

Dirty

Dirty

"_You must be enjoying this-"_

"_Punishment—More to come—Already done what we needed to do—"_

"_Why, what was that Sam? More?"_

"_You seemed to enjoy that, didn't you?"_

No, he didn't. That didn't mean he was… dirty, did it?

He could see his body trembling underneath Megatron. This time, he wasn't the one under the torturous spell. This time he was the one watching every painful movement his own body jerked against. He listened to each shrill cry, each beg and each plea. He couldn't do anything to save himself from this: it all happened days ago. It was too late to change his past now.

He closed his eyes against himself, and cried along to his own self, left unmercifully on the table, shaking, traumatised by what had occurred to him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I'm sooo sorry! I have had NO TIME whatsoever to keep up with my final year in school, and all the extra study and piano I have to keep up with... It's like a bloody juggling act, I must say, although it is my last year, so I won't have to deal with it next year... (phew!)

Anyways, I'm terribly sorry for the blocky updates... But I wish to give a HUGE, MASSIVE, GIGANTIC HUG TO ALL OF YOU GUYS! YOU'RE THE REASON, THE ONLY REASON, WHY SORROWS OF THE DAMNED IS ALIVE! Thank you sooo much guys, and I love you all!

Catch ya when school isn't crawling up my legs! hahaha!

xoxox


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

_xXx_

He woke up the next night, with an almost audible gasp, clutching at the bed sheets for his life. Abruptly, he regretted moving, as a sharp stab moved up his leg, jamming him back on the bed. Looks like the painkillers were wearing off. No wonder he woke up so soon. Drowsily, his eyes wondered to where the Camero stood, paint gleaming in the dim lights. He tried not to groan, and sat back down on the covers.

Fingers clasped at each other through the hot sheets, and he fidgeted away, mumbling away some of the pain by biting his lip, making them bleed after what seemed like hours. He gasped as another flash of searing pain darted up through his body. Was he still dreaming? He could almost swear that every inch of his body was still under Megatron, still experiencing every little inch of torment Megatron had inflicted on him.

He gasped again, a small streak of sweat pouring down his burning neck.

What was happening?

He felt his heart pound away in his ears, and his lungs started to tighten. He arched his back upward, and nearly screamed. He couldn't ask anyone for help, or else he'd die from lack of air. He couldn't breathe.

_He couldn't breathe._

His hands grappled for the edge of the bed, and he pulled on the metal bar he found, squeezing it as tightly as he could. By now, the aches had spread to his head, and he wanted to rip his very skin apart, and he groaned again, wondering if he could somehow alert Bumblebee. He couldn't keep going through this. He couldn't hold out until morning.

"_Sam? Sam, what's wrong?"_ the Camero squeaked, but Sam would not answer. If he did, his voice would erupt into an endless wail.

A fire was burning in his chest, ripping his skin apart like fingers prying open his ribcage. The twisting motion caused him to spin from the edge of the bed and onto the floor, where he lay sprawled out, his body curling into a ball, his breathing non-existent. He stopped trying for oxygen ages ago.

Something was pounding forward, and he shrank away from whatever it was, his whole self flinching when he felt a hand pull him up from the floor. He was blind with the pain, but even so, he knew it was Rachet holding him. There was a commotion in the background, voices as high-pitched as his heartbeats, sounds coming out much louder than his racy breath, and a keening sound, like something was dying. He knew it could only be coming from his own mouth, not even Bumblebee could create a sound that had his trademark inside out.

"He's dying, Rachet. Is there any way-" Optimus was saying.

"No, not dying. We both know Samuel isn't dying, Optimus. We need to operate now, _before_ it kills him," Rachet spoke hurriedly back, and Sam jumped as he felt himself being placed down on something soft, but he couldn't fathom what it was, because his mind had gone blank, save for the few voices he could hear. For some reason, everything had clicked and disappeared, like his body had gone into shutdown, and he wondered, dazedly, if this was what dying felt like.

"Samuel? Can you hear us?" he knew that as Optimus spoke, his eyes had probably found the leader's voice, but there was no point in asking the human to reply: Sam was already gone. Sam couldn't think for himself, Sam couldn't answer questions, and Sam couldn't move. But he could hear, and that was all he needed to have at this very moment.

"Sam?" A British voice this time, wailing out for him. "Sam? I'm here, I'm right beside you, I'm right here, and I swear I'm not going to leave you, I swear- Sam! Please don't go, please stay-"

One breath, then time stopped.

xXx

There was a light glowing inside of him. It only dawned on him then what they meant earlier. Yet he wasn't surprised, not by the sudden realisation that he was not the only one inhabiting his own body, nor by the reasons which he had received this-unwanted?- gift. This was Megatron's… child?

A spark.

That was what Sam had felt inside himself, glowing with the light of a thousand suns, with the burning need to feel wanted, safe, no longer alone. This spark was lonesome, and it needed someone to love, or else it would die-

What kind of a freak had he turned into?

He looked at it worriedly, and the rising horror grew from his throat, climbing into a scream that would never find its way through his mouth, much like all the others screams he attempted to utter for the past week. God, wasn't it just so grand to know no-one would ever hear these confounded sounds?

A spark was growing inside him.

A spark.

Megatron had given him… a spark?

What sick twist of fate had done this to him?

There was a burrowing feeling worming its way through his chest, nestling for comfort, as if sensing his discomfort, and Sam knew if it had arms, it would've wrapped it's little fingers around him in an embrace which sold him to the devil. Sam knew this spark was still innocent, unknowing as to what it's- daddy?- had done in order to give him life.

Suddenly, Sam wanted this spark to be his. This was his… child, and he wanted to raise it, even if he couldn't be there for it's whole life, even if he died in order to see it before his eyes-

Wow, he felt like such a mother.

xXx

Before he woke up, he noticed those arms had gripped him, tenderly. They were strong, cold, but they were there. They were keeping him here, holding his body to the ground, whereas he had thought he had floated toward the Heavens hours ago. He marvelled at the strength Bumblebee had inside him, knowing that that strength came from eons of fighting for his planet. He opened his eyes gently, and came face to face with a checked shirt, yellow and black. Figures.

Spark.

Sam bolted up, the arms holding him coming briefly undone, before they tightened around his back again, bringing him back down to where he was previously lying. He grunted as he ended back up where he was, his face digging into Bee's cold chest. No matter who it was that was holding him, he couldn't stop the shudder that ran through him when his face came into contact with another body. Even if it was Bee, the feeling of his body pressed up against-

His legs were hurting him, and he had the sneaking feeling they hadn't given him anything to take for the agonising sensation of those burning welts. "Bee, let go, please-"

"No, you need to rest, now, Sam," Bumblebee's voice was hard, not friendly, and it occurred to Sam that this was the first time he'd ever heard Bee use that tone with him. A shiver went through Sam, before he mustered up the courage to try again.

"Please, Bee, I need to get up now-"

"Why didn't you tell me he done those things?" Bumblebee's voice was quiet, and he spoke with a burning anger that trembled in his voice.

It was enough to stop Sam from trying to get out of this suddenly steely grip. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew Bumblebee could feel it there, fluttering like the wings of a fragile bird, praying for its chance at escape. But no matter what Sam pleaded with his eyes, it seemed obvious he wasn't letting up.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a spark?"

"I didn't know," Sam answered truthfully, "I swear, I didn't know I could even have-"

"So you were ready to keep the fact that Megatron had raped you from me?" Bumblebee was truly hurt by this, and Sam looked up to finally see those blue eyes full of heart-wrenching emotion. "I can't believe," he uttered, so softly, "That you would keep that from me, Sam. I'm your friend, am'nt I?"

"Of course you are, Bee!" Sam almost whimpered it out, because the tension he'd felt in his body was becoming overwhelming. Bumblebee's grip on him was tightening around his body, and even the welts on his chest had not healed completely. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the pain would die down now, anytime now, but before he could help it, Megatron's face had loomed up in front of his lids, and he gripped Bumblebee's shirt even tighter. He bit his lips, struggling to untangle himself from Bee's death grip. "Please, Bee, let go of me- Hurts-" he mumbled as best he could, and suddenly he felt light headed.

Bumblebee's arms had come out from around him, and he gasped for air, lying his head down on Bee's chest, his exhaustion overcoming his relief. He brought his legs up toward his stomach, and one of his hands came out to wrap itself around his ankle. It was a force of habit, him lying on his side, in fetal position- Call it weird, but it made him feel safe.

_Safe._

Ha, how ironic.

"Sam? I'm sorry, I'm just-"

"Fine, it's fine," Sam answered taking another shuddery breath. His shoulders melted into the groove on Bee's stomach, and he winced at the pain he felt on his legs. This time, Bumblebee took notice of his wince, and made to get out from underneath him. The way they were sitting on the back of the car seat made it a hard try to pull himself from underneath a weight that didn't want him to move. Sam's hand came out and gripped Bee's shirt. "Please don't go. I'm scared. Of this," with the other hand he pointed to himself, meaning the spark. It was there, growing inside him.

"It's not there anymore, Sam. I-" At this point, Bumblebee wondered at how much he could say, but he shook his head, wrapping his arms around his charge's shivery shoulders, and pulling himself back down to where he fit comfortably. He brought his knees up to shelter Sam from the outside world, pulling Sam up to his shoulder.

"What do you mean? What do you mean it's not there anymore?" The rising squeal in Sam's voice caused him to pitch his body away from Bumblebee's welcoming arms. The panic in the human's eyes almost startled Bumblebee. Almost, because he knew Sam was a kind soul: he wouldn't want anything to happen to anyone who didn't deserve it, and seeing him like this over something that happened to him, caused him to look down to his chest, where underneath the clothes hid a long scar from the operation that took place over an hour ago. If only for Rachet's quick thinking, Sam would be dead by now.

The way his eyes darted to his chest made Sam look down, and he pulled the shirt up to see what Bee knew he was going to find anyway. Underneath the layer of clothing stood many blood red scars, all of which would probably not leave his body without skin grafts of some sort, and he didn't understand why Bee would look here, until Bee's hand touched his chest, over where his heart-beat, cold fingers trailing down a stitched scar, stretching right down to his waist line. Sam felt time stop, and the sound of rushed breath came through his parted lips. Bumblebee looked up to see those eyes as heart-broken as he felt deep inside. Bumblebee left his hand on Sam's waist, and Sam pulled down his shirt, letting the whole world crash around his head.

"Sam, the spark would have killed you," Bumblebee faltered, as Sam closed his eyes, biting his lips. "So I asked Rachet to put the spark inside me, to let it grow until the time is right for the sparkling to hatch." Bumblebee finished the sentence, glad that he'd prepared himself for this. Of course Sam would want him to look after the sparkling, but would he be okay with the thought that Megatron had given him this? Sam looked up, and in those eyes, he saw understanding, and a near smile.

"So it's safe? The spark is safe?"

"Yes, the sparkling is safe. But," he added, "If you don't want to see it when-"

Sam shook his head fervently, beaming. He put his warm hand down on Bee's, which was still placed on his bare hip, pressing forward.

"It's alive. That's all I care about. Not-" his eyes went dull with memory, "I don't care about what happened before." He shivered, and all Bumblebee could feel was this longing to be with him, this bursting vibrancy that urged him to stay with Sam, to help Sam, to hold him. All of a sudden, Sam was acting strong, trying not to let the sadistic bastard get to him through memories he so badly wished to take away. Still, Sam's eyes glistened with the thought that the youngling wasn't going to die.

Sam was an innocent human being, no matter what he'd been through.

Bumblebee pulled Sam forward gently, pressing him to his chest. Sam literally melted there and then, the exhaustion he felt earlier becoming too great. There was no fight or wish to pull away from this cold embrace. His closed his eyes, and listened to Bumblebee hum a tune, rocking him to sleep.

"I'm sorry for not telling you. I just-" Sam mumbled, gripping Bee's shirt again with a worrying amount of force. Bumblebee's eyebrows knitted together, his blond hair peeking out to see Sam shuddering into his body. Sam was reliving those memories again, and even while he slept, he was thinking about Megatron, how cruelly he tortured him, how sadistic his teases and taunts were too the poor human being who could not move, who was held in place while Megatron got him with spark. How excruciating that must have been for Sam, who meant no harm to the bastard anyway.

If he'd only stayed away.

Bumblebee gripped him tighter and replied, softly, "It's okay. I'm sorry for being so angry earlier. I shouldn't have even thought of saying those things to you, not when you-" he didn't know how to finish the sentence, and so he pursed his lips. He brought a gentle hand up to touch Sam's feverish arm, and held it carefully. In return, Sam shivered, sleep riddled eyes staying closed.

"I'm sorry," he said again, as if the first time wasn't clear enough, and then, "Thanks Bee. Thanks."

Why was Sam thanking him?

He was the one who experienced that, he was the one who woke up in the middle of the night with those horrifying pains, chaining him to whatever he lay on, while the spark inside of him grew and grew. He was the one who'd been through enough to last him a lifetime.

"Sure," he replied, feeling Sam relax into his body, and drift off into a land of dreams.

It just felt so sad, to be so pure in the face of so much horror, Bumblebee thought.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**_ I AM SOOOO SORRY! :'(_

_I swear, I did not mean to keep this for soo long! I've been too busy, and now that I'm off for the hols, I only just remembered it! I swear, the work keeps piling, and I have such a bad memory! I apologise profusedly, and I hope the double-trouble will keep you all happy for a little while..._

_As for how the story will turn out, well, I don't know! Should I make it a sad ending, or would you all prefer a happy one? My pessimistic side tells me to end it all on a sad note, so I tend to go with the flow in any case..._

_Anyways, hope you likey the next chapter... It's got a little more-well, umm-check it out! A little surprise in store for the lovers of Bumblebee and Sam! XDD_

_xoxoxox_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

_xXx_

For the first time in a long time, Sam slept peacefully, no lingering images of what had happened, and what was to come giving way to anything too upsetting for him to see. He dreamt of bees. Yellow and black. He dreamt of creatures that could sting him, hurt him, and yet as he watched them flutter passed his body, they didn't pause to give him a look. They just flew passed his eager eyes, skating the sky with their glassy wings, and he watched, amazed.

By the time he'd woken up, it was late night again, the loading bay full to the brim with the Autobots team, and he was glad that he wasn't moved from Bee when he fell asleep. He felt more at home when he was lying on the backseat of Bee. Bee's holoform was still in the car, but he was instead in the driver's seat, asleep, face turned toward him, eyes closed. Everyone was asleep, and it reminded him of the night everything had changed, but instead of thinking of what happened later, Sam remembered what Bee had said to him-

"_Sam, just give in. Let yourself fall asleep. Close your eyes, and let yourself give into tiredness."_

He smiled softly at the thought, then realised something: it was real. Every single time Bumblebee had looked at him, there was a measure of love in each movement he made toward him. But this was more of a possessive love, the kind you'd only see whenever you wanted to be with someone enough to forget the ties of what's right and what's wrong. The comprehension caused him to sit back in the seat, eyes wide, watching as Bee slept in the front seat.

Bumblebee held him that night, and told him to sleep, but acted in a way that made him feel safe, more than safe, comfortable.

Bumblebee was worried sick for him when he'd been kidnapped, and when they were reunited, Bumblebee made sure he was right by Sam's side.

When Sam almost died from the spark, Bumblebee had taken it inside of him, and was now carrying it. He didn't know where that spark would be, other than right beside his own- that's where they grew. He gulped. No wonder Megatron had been so painful with him. He was trying to lodge the thing closer to his heart. It was enough to make him shiver and almost throw up. He did not need to think about that now.

Even a few hours ago, when he was in Bumblebee's arms, even though Bee had just found out he'd been raped, he'd swallowed it down for his sake, and held him as he drifted off to sleep.

Oh crap.

Even so, when he thought of Bee, there was a slight tingle in his fingers, a warming in his chest. He knew this feeling, but couldn't believe he was having it for a friend. A friend who loved him in the same way. He looked at his hands, trying to make sense of it, and shifted uncomfortably when he felt a throb in his legs. He winced, buckling his legs up under his body on the seat.

"Are you in pain?"

The question knocked him off the seat, and he threw himself at the door, in order to get out, only to have a hand clamp down on his shoulder, making him scream silently.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump like that," Bumblebee said tiredly, and Sam looked over his shoulder to see a sleepy Bee, stretching from the front seat, yawning, hands stretched over his head, eyes tightly closed. The sight of it made Sam smile- Bee looked like a kid when he done that. Sighing, Bee wiped at one of his eyes, and smiled at Sam. He climbed into the backseat with him, and sat cross-legged in front of him, before touching one of Sam's knees softly.

Sam winced at the touch, and he jerked away. He wanted the feel of Bee's hand to linger on his skin, but the pain was starting to build steadily now, burning his skin slowly. He didn't want to leave the car, but he had to in order to feel less of the discomfort. Already, Sam was moving out of the car slowly, but Bee clamped down on his chest again, stopping Sam cold, his eyes widening in shock. The force of his hand down on Sam made Bee knot his eyebrows slowly as he registered the pitch in Sam's heart rate accelerate. He looked up to his Sam stare at his hand innocently placed on his chest. The growing horror on Sam's face made him step back a little, and his expression hardened.

This was what Megatron done to him. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, a reflex that surfaced from those moments when he really thought his whole life was over, and waited for whatever was to come, but all Bee done was shift his hand away from his chest, gently trailing it toward his face, before another hand joined it and cradled his face. Sam tried to make himself small: he didn't want to be touched, not like this, so soon after what had happened-

"Sam, it's not going to happen ever again, I swear it," Bee whispered and Sam let out the tiniest gasp, before he felt a forehead graze his very softly, blond hair tickling his cheek. "I will never let that bastard, or any of those bastards near you, ever, ever again. You will not have to come near any of them ever again, and I will protect you, forever, if I have to." Sam's muscles tensed, but Bee's hands smoothed them out, caressing the folds in his shirt. He took in a sharp breath, feeling those hands on his shoulders, over his arms, down toward his hands, and he relaxed into their touch, closing his eyes. Bumblebee saw that slight blush colour Sam's cheeks, and he leaned in again, placing his soft lips down on Sam's.

The result was electrifying, a fire that seemed dormant for so long lashing out onto all that it touched, and Sam leaned in slightly, feeling Bee bunch his hands into Sam's waist, pulling him down onto the seat. Sam's lips were melting against Bumblebee's, and he felt dazed with the touch of them. Each caress brought Sam closer to him, and Bee' hands were travelling over his stomach, up toward his chest.

It didn't feel wrong, and it shouldn't have. This was normal, this was… love, and you can't help who you ended up falling for.

Bumblebee felt right. Being in his arms… felt normal. If he wasn't holding him right now, then Sam would feel as empty as he always did whenever he was away from his gentle touch.

It was only when Bumblebee touched his thigh that Sam jerked away, the kiss breaking off from what was originally intended to be nothing more than a touch of comfort. Sam looked into Bee's eyes, scared, and Bumblebee looked back, before smiling faintly, putting his face up against Sam's.

"I won't hurt you, Sam, I promise," he gently urged, holding his hand, and hearing the trembling in the teenager's voice. He brought a hand around his head and placed him close to his chest. "I love you, and I will always love you, forever and always."

It seemed so easy, but it felt so hard, knowing that what Sam wanted was so close, was touching him and holding him, and yet, he just couldn't go that far. When Bumblebee pressed his lips to his, he felt more than a connection. It was like a spark lighting the darkness, and it made him feel warm. When Bumblebee touched his face, he felt happy inside, and yet the next step was too much, too fast, for him.

He looked into those eyes, finding his own face reflected in them, his own flushed face, and hearing his own rushed breath, and he stopped, blinking. No, he couldn't do it, not yet-

"Not yet, please. Not yet," Sam whispered, reaching out for Bee's hands, and in them, he shifted uncomfortably. Bee watched him carefully, before smiling. Sam looked to him, shocked. "What's so funny?"

"Your face," Bee answered immediately, turning over to hide the giggles he'd suddenly received. Sam went red.

"What does that mean? You just kissed me! How the hell was I supposed to look?"

"You look so serious! It's just-," Bee snorted, and after hearing that infectious laughter start up, not even Sam could repress an embarrassed smile. He shrugged, looking down. "-there's no need to be so serious!"

"About having sex? You don't want me to be serious about my fir-" Sam stopped the thought, and cleared his throat, bringing his legs up, as if to protect himself from everything out of his personal space. Beside him, Bee stopped laughing and looked back. "-about-" Sam continued, biting through near tears, "-about my _almost_ first time?" Bumblebee bit his lip.

"But this would be your first time. Whatever Megatron done to you, and how he done it doesn't mean it would be your second. Giving your love to someone-" Bumblebee smiled, his British voice singing in the air between them, "-for the first time, is important, right?" He leaned his blond fringe into Sam's forehead, gentle, beckoning to a soft side in Sam, not this depressed state. "We don't ever have to do it, Sam. Never. Not if you don't ever want to do it, I promise, and I understand. Having you here, like this, is more important to me, than anything else."

Sam never met his gaze, but he had heard every word that Bumblebee said.

_Giving your love to someone,_ huh?

That sounded very… innocent, didn't it?

"He said I was dirty, Bee. I'm not clean anymore," Sam mumbled, mortified he was saying it, terrified for what Bee would say in return. He couldn't meet Bumblebee's gaze, and he most certainly didn't want to move from this spot now. God, if only the earth could swallow him up now.

"But you aren't. He's the dirty one. He's the vile, sadistic, criminal here. Not you, never you," Bumblebee replied, kissing him on the lips again. In it, Sam found that sweetness that he couldn't find anywhere else. It was more than he ever wanted, and yet, it just wasn't enough. He'd trembled enough under Bee's touch, and he shied away whenever it became too much to bear, but eventually, he became confident enough to kiss Bumblebee back with as much force as all his own love could give, maybe even more. Their kisses deepened, and against his own wishes, Sam groaned.

Bumblebee chuckled, his breath grazing Sam's lips, before leaning down, and pulling Sam's body closer, further off the seat and into his own arms. Sam pushed away again, looking at the fire there in Bee's eyes. "I just want to kiss-" Bee started, before he was cut off again by a warm pair of lips on his.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Does everyone like it? I didn't want to rush it... And I thought the kiss would be perfect for the whole Christmas atmosphere... I know that when I was typing it, my heart was literally singing with happiness, and I loved the way it turned out so much...

Tell me what you think, as your comments mean a lot to me!

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have the best Christmases ever, and please stay safe! I love you all,


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:**_Hey guys! I'm sooo sorry for not updating in over... seven months? Jeesh, i understand the impatience, but it was either complete the story or lack in my studies for my Finals. And I couldn't do that, I so I had to leave the 'fic while I finished my Final Year in School- I'm (hopefully!) going to college in the next year or so, after I take a gap year! I'm SO EXCITED!

So, while I've been slaving away at study (shudder) you guys have been busy! Thank you so much for you're time and patience. Honestly guys, **Sorrows **wouldn't be here without you. I promise I will try updating this as often as possible and I will hopefully have it finished within the next month. Thank you again for all your patience- I give each and every one of you guys a chocolate factory of cookies for your support!

Peace, love, chocolate and a big bag of angst,

_PassionandPromise_

xoxox

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>Chapter<span> Six**_

_**xXx**_

Bumblebee woke pleasantly, Sam in his dreams. He remembered how those kisses had affected him, how each caress Sam had given him with those undemanding fingers of his had nearly warmed his skin. Each small, whispery moan from Sam's throat would spur him on, until Sam had to stop, out of pain. He'd forgotten about the pain Sam was in. And so he reluctantly carried Sam toward Rachet, who swore that Sam needed rest, not an accelerated heart rate and ragged breath.

So Sam slept in the med bay, and there Bumblebee had drifted off into a deep recharge.

And now, he was watching the boy sleep on the white covered bed, skin deathly pale- normal for him- wishing for those brown eyes to open- the only colour on his body which was not so creamy.

"Bee…" Sam whispered in his sleep, snuggling closer to under the covers, and inside, Bumblebee felt his spark glow with happiness. Inside him was Sam's spark, the one which almost killed him. Even in that, Sam was kind, and wanted to see it once it had become a hatchling. Bumblebee knew the process wouldn't take long: it was all about whenever the hatchling so desired to become a mech. Maybe it would be a month, it could take three, but whenever the time came, Sam would be waiting.

Bumblebee wondered what Sam would be dreaming about, if he was in it. At least Megatron wasn't there anymore, although he couldn't be too hasty to say, as in another second, there could be a sudden, strangled cry, and then the peace would shatter into a thousand, million fragments. Did Sam see Bumblebee the way he saw him? Was it love that Sam so wanted? Or was it some sort of peace of mind, some solace of safety, after all that happened? 'No,' Bee thought: that was not it. Sam didn't get carried away by his emotions, in fact, he rarely lost himself in his more spiritual self. This was love, the kind of love Sam wouldn't be able to explain.

Ditto for Bumblebee.

Bumblebee couldn't explain how he felt about Sam. Sam was right for him. Sam was perfect, with all his flaws. Sam was who he wanted to be with.

He couldn't even put it into the words of music he found on those radio stations he usually tuned into. Was this normal? Was he normal for loving, in his own words, an alien?

Sam wasn't an alien, but he was a different species.

What could they do? Sam was helpless, and needed Bee more than he liked to say. If Bumblebee was to get up the next day, and leave, Sam would despair, possibly lose his mind. It wouldn't surprise Bumblebee, as it would happen to him too.

Right now, all he could do was watch over his charge, and wait for the ruin to rise.

_xXxxXxXx_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Bumblebee," Optimus spoke over the comm link between all Autobots, and Bee perked up from where he slumbered late into the night. Here was the ruin, he thought, as he answered the link in the affirmative. "It is time."

The night swelled outside the hangar and Sam slept peacefully within the med bay, unaware of what would be taking place in another part of the country. He would dream and wake the next morning, Bee would be back, everyone would be home, and no-one would ever need know what had happened.

Quietly, Bee swerved his Camero form out from the med bay, and almost silently into the main hangar, where all the Autobots were gathered in circular formation. Optimus faced him directly opposite, and he saw from the corner of his sensors that Epps and Lennox were gathered with a small group of well trained army men near the entrance to the hangar. Everyone was ready to go.

Optimus transformed and got down on his knees in front of the Camero. "Not a word will be mentioned to the boy, do you understand, Bumblebee?" Bumblebee flashed his dipped headlights, agreeing, but reluctantly. He secretly wished he could tell the boy what he was about to do next, what they were all about to go through with now.

However, he knew that this needed to happen, and they needed to take action. If they didn't, then the next time would be too late.

Rachet transformed, a large, wicked grin on his usually fatherly face. "I'm looking forward to this, Optimus. I'm looking forward to this very much indeed." He gripped his fists, tightening them before he let his fingers relax.

"Yeah, when we gonna punch that bastard in da face?" One of the twins catcalled, when they were shut down by Lennox.

"Sam doesn't need to know about this, remember guys?" he said to the two of them. "Sam doesn't need to hear what were about to do, so no mentioning this to him, okay?" He was stern, but he also couldn't wait to have a piece of the action he'd been waiting for for the past few weeks. While he didn't know the kid as well as the Autobots did, he respected him enough to want to kill Megatron too.

"Don' worry, Sir! We'll make sure not ta say one word to da kid, we swear it on our-"

"Don't even think about swearing it on anything, just don't tell him," Epps interjected, not wanting to think about what they were about to say next. Truthfully, he was worried about what they were going to do. Infiltrating an enemy camp full of Decepticons was like walking right into a bear cave. Who knew how many of those psychos there were. He shuddered as he walked up to Lennox.

Catching the look on his friends' face, Lennox tapped him on the shoulder. "We'll be okay. In fact, it'll be _fun_," he said cheerfully, a maddening gleam in his eyes. Epps rolled his eyes.

"You kids and your games," he whispered, and Lennox laughed.

"Is everyone ready?" Optimus boomed. Everyone stuck their arms into the air in a silent salute, ready for the gore and the action to begin. "Let's roll out."

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Sam woke up early, his thoughts fuzzy and full of warmth. He clutched the bed sheets with one closed fist and the otehr lay free over the side of the bed. He sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and furrowed his eyebrows when he saw Bee wasn't there. In fact, it was quiet in the med bay. There was no sound, nothing bubbling from the twins' mouths, which could usually be heard for miles away. There were no pounding footprints or rolling gears, no electrical wires and no muted whispers from human mouths.

Sam sat up, and stayed sitting, listening to the silence with new purpose.

"Is there anyone here?" his voice echoed through the large room, and he flinched when it bounced right back to him.

"I'm here," a female voice, low and soft spoke back, and Sam looked in the direction it came from to see a tall brunette walk slowly toward him, a clipboard attached to one hand, a pen in the other. She smiled, her tanned face beaming at him, a pair of demin jeans and a strappy pink top huddled under a white coat.

"I've never seen you here before," Sam commented, as he pulled his legs out of the bed. He noticed, mentally, that they felt fine now, except for the slight twinge he felt on his thighs, he was okay. He wondered if the bruising had gone down, and noted he would check it later on. The brunette smiled.

"Employed a week ago," she stuck out a hand, "Pleasure to meet you." He shook hers, then looked around the med bay.

"What happened to the usual banter?" he asked, straight to the point. His gaze shifted from her to the abnormal loneliness that emmitted from every corner of the usually loud and booming hangar. The brunette stuck her hands behind her back.

"Routine mission. Everyone was called out. Bumblebee didn't want to wake you up, so I was warned to tell you that everything was fine, and that they should be back later," she smiled again, and Sam nodded, before scratching his head.

"Hmm," he sighed, feeling a prick of hurt cross his chest. Bee usually told him where he was going, even if he had to wake him up, especially if it was in the middle of the night, and on college grounds. He shrugged off the feeling as fast as he could. "H-How are you getting used to the towering, hulking, robotic machines that have a lifeforce of their own?" he asked animatedly, and the brunette laughed, a high, sweet sounding flute in the gloomy air.

"Well, it's certainly different, but its cool. Dad always told me he believed in aliens," she took out her pen and started writing something down on the sheet of paper on the clipboard. "But I never thought he spoke the truth."

"Your dad works here?"

"Nope. My dad was a convicted crazy nutter who ended up in an asylum two years ago for his belief in the demons of outer space," she replied easily, and Sam flinched, a look of surprise on his face. She laughed again. "Joke," she added. "Yes, my dad does work here."

"Huh, good joke. I genuinely believed you," Sam said, his heart rate slowing down after thinking he was stuck in a room with a crazy nut-job himself. "Um, I'm Sam," he stated, and the brunette smiled.

"Mikeala."

**xxxxxxxxxx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Bumblebee listened to the firing of bullets from far off, knowing Lennox and Epps were using everything they had in order to infiltrate the enemy camp. Within minutes of arrival, it was like Megatron had expected them, expected them to attack after what had happened to Sam, and he had prepared. Starscream was waiting for them at the entrance to the dilipatated building, arms crossed, his red eyes cackling with mirth.

"Did you enjoy our gift?" he screeched when they each transformed, Lennox and Epps crawling out of the back of Optimus with all the others like ants in comparison to the giants that stood before them. Bumblebee reeled. He was speaking about Sam like he was some piece of dirt.

"If by gift, you mean the ticket to kicking yer asses once and fer all, den yeah, we gonna enjoy ripping yer bodies to shreds an' offering 'em to the scrap heap, you measly piece of-"

Both the twins were hit on the back of the head by Rachet and Ironhide. "If by gift," Rachet commented lowly. "You mean injuring our friend, then no, we didn't enjoy it. But," he crossed his arms, looking down at the Decepticon. "As a consolation prize, we will enjoy ripping each and every one of your team to the shards you were created from." In agreement, Ironhide cracking his gears, a grin on his face.

"Oh yeah," he commented, just as low as Rachet's voice, the hint of menace dripping from his voice box like blood to a flame.

Starscream didn't react to their threats, he merely watched them silently, watched Optimus, and then cast his gaze to Bumblebee. "I bet you liked it, having to watch over Sam like he was your puppy," he grinned. "I bet you kept him company during those late nights while Sam dreamt of Megatron enjoying his young and-"

A fist flew out and cracked against Starscream's metal head, and he jerked backwards, wondering how Bee had gotten over there so fast. He landed against the stone wall of the building behind him, feeling the rattle of stone against metal, and as he looked up, there stood Optimus' giant form, towering over the measly Decepticon, Lennox by his side, with what could only be described as a tank gun strapped to his arm, pointing directly between Starscream's glassy orbs.

There was a green light above his head, and Optimus stood back as fast as he could. Faintly, Starscream could hear a deep, bassy voice call out over a transmitter, _"Where the fuck are those rangers?"_

Oh. He sighed deeply to himself, metal gears rippling against straining stone. So that was how he was going to die. Starscream merely watched overhead, before attempting to transform. Another round of blows rained from over his head, and stopped his escape. Optimus was quiet, silent against the black of night, and the raging storm that blew against his mind.

He never voiced an opinion as to how he felt in seeing Sam so deeply affected after he was found by the Autobots on the beach. Sam screamed until his voice had gone dry, and the shock of it all rattled each of the Autobots to the bone. These merciless bastards would pay, and they would pay dearly for what they'd done. He continued to rattle hit after hit upon Starscream, until he heard the dropping of battlearms overhead, and the battle, the war, had finally, begun.

And after that, Bumblebee mused, was an endless hand to firearm combat that raged for hours. The whole base of the Decepticons had been infiltrated, and now they were searching, destroying, the mass of decay these enemies had caused to their friend, to _Sam..._

He rained bullet after bullet upon anything that had a face he did not recognise. He moved fast, and stayed silent against the storm that brewed above and below. There were so many of these guys, so many Decepticons, all coming from one place or another. It was a wonder how each of them had hidden against the Autobots for so long, but Bumblebee had shook his head, and continued to fight, continued to kill, to behead, to shoot, to throw and to decapitate. Each of his friends were here, and they were all fighting for the same reason as he: they were all fighting for Sam. They were fighting for him, and for the countless other civilians like him who would have laid themselves bare to what Sam had experienced.

No-one with red eyes and a thrist for blood would get out of here alive, not today, and not any day after that.

He swerved when he head the cackle of a familiar Decepticon, and looked up to see Megatron hovering over the scene, the Autobots and the humans, beating the shit out of whatever moved in front of them. They moved as one, and yet here this Decepticon was, laughing admist this.

Was it because this was what Megatron wanted- a glimpse of how destructive the Autobots were as a force?

It didn't matter, because he knew he was losing, and as Bumblebee pulled down his helmet, he aimed high above, right to the sky, and shot as many bullets as he could, and like fireworks, they blazed, as throbbing and strong and true. Each of the humans, and Autobots looked up, and caught what Bumblebee was pointing out: there was the Ringmaster, the Overlord, the son of a bitch who would pay. Bumblebee tasted blood in his mouth, tasted the desparate need for revenge, and launched himself into the sky, past all the gore and lost bodies, past the screams and howls for mercy, past the smoke and crawling shadows that lurked within more Decpeticons, more threats to their existance.

He didn't care if he was shot down, he didn't care if he died doing this, he was going to avenge Sam, he was going to save him, he was going to die protecting him. He aimed his handheld gun right at Megatron's shocked face, and heard dimly his expression of horror, as he aimed the gun right into his eye, and shot as many bullets as he could, and still kept shooting. The whole world went still below, and he dimly wodnered if it was because they were watching the bastard they tried so hard to defeat, the slimy mouse who stayed behind corners, who controlled from far away, the cruel son of a bitch who tried to hurt his friend, and succeeded on the outside, but never, _never_, on the inside.

Sam was safe. Sam was going to be well again, and even if he never fully recovered from what had happened to him, Bumblebee knew that he would be there, every single step of the way. Sam would never be alone. Never.

Megatron fell to the ground, the smoky remnants of hell below, and after him followed Bumblebee, diving to the fire below him as fast as he could, firing a range again as Megatron began to creep along the ground, trying to escape. He never would make it out of here alive, not with Bumblebee's orbs filled with death, not with Bumblebee's whole being full of nothing but revenge, justice and the _**need**_ to kill.

Eventually, Megatron stopped moving, the remains of his skeletal body destroyed and laid flat on the ground in bits and gory bobs. There was no movement, which Bumblebee took for a good sign. He laid down his weapon, and watched that body, watched it as he heard Sam's voice-

"_He said I was dirty, Bee. I'm not clean anymore."_

No, not true. Not true at all. Sam was clean. Sam was perfect. Sam was everything sweet. Sam was his whole world, the universe, and everything in between, and by Primus, if anything came in between them like that again, lihe the bastard that lay before him now, he would make sure the bloody thing was beaten to a pulp before Sam was hurt ever again.

_"I wonder what would happen, if the world continued to forget, all the trespasses made against the human race, against the whole of the world, and religion itself. I just wonder how cruel a world that would be," _the radio crooned, fragments of words put together against the fizzling backdrop of noise and steadily quieting bullets. Megatron was dead, and now all that was left was to kill the army.

**xxxxxxx**

Late into the night, Sam watched the sky, full of stars, as he waited for Bee to return. It must've been some serious mission if they hadn't returned yet. He fidgeted with his hands as he watched the moon twinkle as brightly as the stars. He sat on one of the trucks, pitch black underneath him, his legs dangling over the edge of the bonnet. Where were they, and why hadn't they told him where they were going?

His restless heart thumped as fast as his restless body, and the anxiety nearly toppled over him as he bit his lips and chewed the sky with his eyes.

Mikeala had told him time and again that they were on their way home, it was a long journey, and that everything was fine. They were safe. If they were safe, he supposed quickly, then that was okay, and everything was alright. He despartely hoped so, anyways.

He couldn't bear the thought of Bee lying somewhere, dishevelled and broken. He shivered against the sudden illusionary chill.

It was then that he felt something twitch inside of him, and he was pulled toward the ground with the force of metal against magnet.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN::**_Whoa, between real life and cyber life, I had no time at all to myself. Its getting harder and harder to keep up with everything, and I'm sorry for that. I'm going to keep my head down for the next few days and try to get another chapter out by next week, but to tell the truth, guys, this has only got about two or three chapters left to it, and I'm not adding anymore after that.

Thank you again for your patience, and please continue to watch over me as I continue to write about these guys. (Yes, they will get that amazing happy ending, I promise you all, and the angst and depression will life, just wait and see! ^^)

xoxox


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Sam couldn't understand what was wrong. He felt the steady throb of his frantic heartbeat before he felt the unsteady beating of something else, something that blearily reminded him of a heart monitor, or the firing of emblazoned firetrucks. It was unearthly, and yet, it was familiar.

It was someone calling out for him, and only him.

It had the voice of a child.

A sparkling.

**xxxxxx**

Bumblebee threw himself to the darkened pit below, just in time to feel Rachet's arms go around him, metal gears turning against the sounds of squeaking wheels. There were shouts, and calls, soemthing that rivalled the war cries of the Decepticons. But he knew the truth in all its gory glory. He knew the Autobots had won the battle, and they were the ones who cried for their salvation.

Faintly, he could hear something call Sam's name, and he was aware of the pure, innocent joy that sang from between the chords of his stabbing blue heartbeat.

_It _was ready. The time had come.

**xxxxxx**

Sam clawed at the ground, his mouth forming a thin line. He propelled himself away from the truck he once sat at, and reached his hand out toward the open hangar, where he kenw Mikeala would be. The lights of the hangar itself glowed against the dark and starry sky, and he wondered where on earth Bee was. He needed Bee right now.

"_Why, what was that Sam? More?"_

He squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach heaving. There wasn't anything there. He wasn't pregnant. He wasn't the one who had a sparkling growing inside him. So why did this pain feel so real? He nearly screamed when something that resembled a hot iron being placed on his chest suddenly flared into unflinching life.

He rolled over onto his back, and stared at the skies.

"_You must be enjoying this-"_

He whimpered against the ground, his arms tensing and then relaxing against solid bricks. He felt the weight on his chest, like being pulled down into the hellish ground from above, like the damnation Megatron had sold him to all those weeks ago. Like the firey hands were ready to take him, and keep him. And it was as if no-one was going to be there to see him writhe in agony.

He screamed against the flushed air, and felt lonely, scared, helpless. This pain was blinding him, it was making him jump, making him turn and run. It was making him breathless, it was strangling him. He gripped his palms tightly. He listened to the quiet air around him.

_"-We already have done what we needed to do. Sam's punishment has been given… "_

_Sam? Samuel? _the sound of a grainy and hopefilled voice filled his being, and made the pain stop, if momentraily. He breathed out against the exhaustion he felt, the dizziness of his mind overcoming the sheer feeling of joy he recieved when he felt that steady thrum of noise, that voice-

"_I will never let that bastard, or any of those bastards near you, ever, ever again. You will not have to come near any of them ever again, and I will protect you, forever, if I have to." _Bumblebee's voice filled his ears, and he opened his eyes against the darkness of red and orange lights. He could feel Bumblebee, feel his heartbeat, the blue fire working restlessly against his working frame. The pains prickled down his fingertips, like an unbroken promise, but he ignored them, he ignored them all.

He breathed deeply.

_Forever, if I have to-_

He had Bee, for forever. And Bee would wait. Bee would wait for forever, if he needed him to. He would take care of the sparkling. He would make sure he was kept safe long after he was gone and had gathered dust six feet under. Everything was going to be okay.

Megatron was gone, he knew. Megatron couldn't hurt them anymore. They were safe.

_Samuel? Sam? Sam-Sam-_

"I'm right here," he whispered to the relaxed air, watching those twinking stars with the grace of acceptance. He had forever. He had an always. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

There was a laugh, a chuckle, something filmy and ingrained against noise and backdrops that sang their unending songs and spoke with fearless voices. There was a promise, a swear, maybe a curse, but it was there, strong and true.

He gripped the ground as he sat up, his back twitching against the movement and his heart racing against the flashes of pain in his chest. He thought is was unnerving, to feel so much, and all for something so small, and yet so full of life. He also thought it was bizarrely hilarious, to feel the pain of giving birth, and knowing that the child belonged in another body.

"Sam! SAM!"

Mikeala's voice swerved him back into consciousness, back into the reality that he was here, he was sitting on the ground, and that she was running up behind him, her hair flying in wisps of near-black fingers around her face.

"Rachet called- said- You were-" she came to a full stop in front of him, her knees giving out to fall gracefully to the ground. She gathered her arms around his neck. "He said-something about you- You were in pain- Bumblebee-"

"I'm alright," he managed to choke out. "I'm fine, 'Keala. I'm perfectly fine, okay?" He nearly laughed. He felt happy. Truly happy. He felt safe, relaxed, _calm_. He chuckled, clutching Mikeala's hands and gently breaking free of her hold. "It's okay now. Everything's okay."

It was a start, he knew. It was a beginning, and now the end had to come.

Maybe his world had once ended with a whisper, a whimper of pain. But it began again, like clocks turning against the clockmaker's hand. It began when he heard that voice, the voice of the angel that had come to life under Bee's heart,_** his **_lifeforce. The spark that had called his name, softly, tentatively, as if afraid to annoy or worry him.

It was the voice of a child.

Mikeala watched him carefully, before she smiled. "Rachet said the sparkling is safe. They're coming home now. They're almost home."

"That's good," he answered. "I cant wait to see them again. All of them."

A light had dwindled out of him on that night with Megatron. But just as surely as it had gone out, a new light flickered back in it's place, brought about by Bee, by his friends, by the child that was his. And Megatron's.

**xxxxx**

Bumblebee imagined Sam's face, he imagined them in all their forms: happy, sad, terrified, joyous, angry, annoyed, tired, sleeping... it went on and on. He imagined Megatron's face now, the flickering darkness that had once expelled all evil, all destruction.

And now he was dead.

Rachet mentioned something over him as he slept in his Camero form, the small body of a sparkling lying on the car's seats inside. He said something about miracles, something about endings, and then he mentioned Sam.

"I wonder how it affected him."

Bee's headlights flared to attention, and Ironhide tapped his bonnet. "Would you ever sleep? Primus, we're almost home, and Sam will hound you the second we get back."

"Well, I'd nearly say that's a good thing, considering we bashed the bejesus out of those Decepticons," Lennox countered. Bumblebee could hear the smile in his voice. "We got 'em good."

"Damn straight we did," Epps laughed. "And we got a baby Sam out of it!" Ironhide sniggered.

"That sounds garish, does it not?" Rachet muttered darkly.

"For some reason, I don't think Samuel would mind one bit," Optimus filled in through the awkward cracks. Bumblebee flashed his lights again in agreement...

They were still on the battlefield, hovering over Megatron's soundless body.

It was sudden, and an out of nowhere experience, the immediate light that shone through the cracks of his metal plates, and when he opened his chest, there shone the sparkling.

It's body took form, curving and changing, transforming into something small, tiny, yet real and solid. In that slight second, he could feel Sam, feel his pain and his screaming mind, begging for his help. It alarmed him, all these images, all these feelings, bitter and broken, among the frantic cries of one human against one Decepticon.

For just that second, he could feel what Sam felt, he could see what Sam saw, in those moments when this sparkling came to life.

It frightened him beyond belief, and it terrified him even more for Sam. Out by the hangar, Sam's cries for help wouldn't be heard, Sam's pleas would be deaf and blind to anyone within the building.

Rachet called Mikeala. He told him everything would be alright, and that these small, fragile metal hands that begged for Sam, would soon be cradled within his arms. The sparklng ceased its begging, and those small brown orbs stared at Bee, watching him, reading his soul.

It was bizarre. Bumblebee had never felt it before, this connection. While everyone hovered over this beautiful infant, and it's glowing silver plates, sleek and shiny, it stared at him with the longing to be held and to be loved. Brown orbs, flashing red on its outer ends, it pointed to him, and a blurry voice, soft and childlike, gentle and scared, whispered-

_"Daddy."_


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Sam listened to the music blasting out of the radio speakers, while pretending to drive his best friend, his... _boyfriend_. It made him smile, to say that, to think it. Something with a vast bass tempo blared through all the open windows of the car, something Bee decided to play, and in the back seat, a holoform shape sat, playfully clapping its hands.

It took a little getting used to, but eventually, Rachet had managed to work past the holoforms themselves. Nothing could beat how real they looked now, all of them gatehred in a circle around him and it, the sparkling itself. Bumblebee had a solid human form now, they all did. No more hanging around in the Camero, no more hiding in plain sight, they once said.

She had Sam's eyes, they all said. She had Sam's eyes, and, as freakishly weird as it seemed, she had Bee's temper. She was sweet, blond curls and small cheeks. Yet, when riled, she had a fierce passion, and it was enough to know that something underlined her lifesource, something that resembled the dark past she came from.

Rachet told them both there was nothing to worry about. She was an Autobot, born and bred. The twins held back a giggle at that one, and remained solemn faced when Ironhide cast them a sideways glance. How they could be so serious one moment, and then dark humoured the next, was beyond everyone on the Autobot team.

"Daddy?" she whispered, her hands flying out in front of her, straining against the seatbelt she wore. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" Sam called back. He wanted to sit beside her, but knew Bee's holoform wouldn't be able to hold for the long drive, and then materialise for the entire evening as the human being he now was, without depleting a vast amount of energy, so he begged Sam to wait out the three hour drive.

If Bee begged, it only took two seconds before Sam followed willingly.

"Are we there yet?" she all but sang. She giggled, her processors registering this as the repetitive phrase all children use when bored in the car. "Are we there yet?" Sam laughed, understanding what she was trying to do.

"Almost, just ten minutes, okay?"

_"I don't know... what they gonna say- when they find out- about us?" _Bumblebee's radio sang in broken verses, and Sam sighed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"I don't know, Bee. It's been two months since I saw them, and last time I did, I was telling dad to run for his life's worth," he whispered, remembering that time when he died after Megatron blasted him out of this world and into kingdom come. He couldn't understand how upset he was straight afterwards, how badly he wanted to wish none of it happened.

Was he really that worried about being a hero?

He sighed against the turn in they were making. Another five minutes and they'd be there. They'd be... _**home**_.

But that was okay. He knew his mother and father would accept him in all his actions, because no matter how crazy or strange they were, they were his, body and soul. He cast a glance into the rearview mirror, and saw her bathed in golden light as the sun shone outside. She looked to the mirror and smiled, waving to him.

She grew fast. In two months, she was now in the body of a four year old. It was what Rachet called the normal growth process for sparklings. Come another year or so, she'd look like a woman in her early twenties. Give it another few years, and... she be as old as time itself...

It made him wonder. Transformer and human had never merged before like that. Everything had to be seen in a whole new light. Rachet wasn't worried in the slightest, believing her to be the greatest creation man and Transformer had ever seen. She was a cross between races.

_"We've arrived, Sir,"_ the British voice of a Butler raffled through the speakers, and Sam looked up. They were expecting them. They were waiting for them inside. In the two months he'd been apart from them, nothing had changed. The house was exactly as they had left it.

He was home.

"Come on, Daddy! I want to see Grandpa and Grandma!"

He chuckled, unbuckling his belt. "Whatever you do, don't call them that."

"Why? That's what they are."

"Call them mum and dad, okay? I don't think my old man would like being a grandfather just yet."

"But, they aren't my parents!" he saw a flash of her folding her arms, a cheeky grin on her face. "You and Bumblebee are my parents."

Yes, they were. Beside him, he saw the filmy graze of Bumblebee materialise into human form, his blond hair shrugging against the sudden heat of the sun. He tapped Sam's shoulder, indicating to the back. Sam noticed the warmth he found there, no longer cold, and laughed.

"We should probably get the little Princess out," Bee said softly, looking into Sam's eyes, deep and blue.

"Yeah, we should." There was a moment there, as gentle as carresses felt deep into the night, yet as penetrating as stab wounds that refused to heal. Bee leaned forward and tipped his forehead against Sam's, willing and soft, his hands cradling his face. He closed his eyes against that touch, and grinned.

"Ew, gross! If you guys are gonna to do that, then I'm gonna-"

"Sammy boy! Oh my dear Sammy-"

"Would you quit that? Let the boy climb outta the car first, before you decide to embarrass him-"

"Oh shut up! You know I missed my boy after all these months, and not _one call_-"

Sam looked out the window of the car to see both his parents striding purposefully toward them. They were bickering, as always, and he marvelled at all that _had _changed in the past two months, and all that _hadn't_ changed_ between _them these past two months. They waited for him. Goodness knows he should've called, but what could he say? Could he tell them the truth?

"That's not what I mean, and young man, you will tell me exactly what that was all about, driving your mother and I insane-"

His dad was poking his finger in his direction, and he wordlessly climbed out of the car. Bumblebee followed, opening up the door for her to climb out also. He held her hand, and walked her around to the front of the car, to where they stood, arguing over time lost and then found.

But it didn't matter. They argued because they missed him and loved him, and he silently gathered the two of them into the biggest hug he could give. He missed the normalcy of it all, the feeling of being accepted without the ties of blood and body. They stopped talking, and his mother smiled, hugging him back.

"Welcome home, sweetie. We missed you," she said.

"I missed you too," he whispered into her neck.

"And who's this little girl?"

He opened his eyes just in time to see his father gazing at the pretty girl with eyes as dark as chocolate and as warm as honey. She still gripped Bumblebee's hand, and didn't complain when he scooped her up into his arms for them to take a better look at her. Her hands reached out for his father, and he laughed.

"Did you take her off one of the armymen?" he asked, and she smiled wickedly.

"Hi Daddy!" she called cheerfully, and he went white. Judy watched the exchange between the two of them, before she started hitting her husband fiercely, calling him a variety of colourful names.

Sam looked to Bee, who returned his worried gaze, and smiled.

"Just what is going on here, son? That is not my daughter-!" Ron all but spluttered as Judy still battered him senseless.

"It's a long story-" Sam answered seriously. He fidgeted with his fingers, and his tense pose made Judy stop what she was doing and peer at her son, seeing the underlying pain, the anxiety and the worry of the past few months. Bumblebee came up beside him, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

_"Every time you say that it doesn't matter, or that you are fine, or there is no need for me to worry, every time you turn around and start to bully yourself over the slightest or things, like how stupid you are, or what a coward you are, or how you can never do the job bloody right, then you make me feel like I'm letting you down."_ He remembered what Bee had said, a few hours before everything changed. He rememebered the feeling of no longer being alone, of being free to say how he felt, when he felt it.

The moments that led to this one in front of his parents were meant to happen. He was meant to be here, with them. He was meant to tell them the truth. And he knew they would accept it, because they could never change it, or undo it.

"-And I want to tell you everything."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN::**_That's it! It's finally finished, after a year in the waiting! Thank you so much everyone, for favouriting and reviewing this magnificently devious story: I love you all sooo much! Never in a million years had I ever imagined anyone out there would like this demented and evil piece, but you guys surprised me, and I love you all for it!

I hope you all continue to watch over me as my love for writing continues to grow, and if you have any queries, whether it be** Sorrows** itself, or another story, please, feel free to ask me in the reviews, or even PM me, and I'll be more than happy to answer!

_Peace, love, and "Roll Outs"!  
><em>

_PassionandPromise_

_xoxoxoxox_


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